They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
This ghazal portrays the quiet unraveling that follows loss. The poet captures how absence disorients nature itself—seasons lose warmth, stars drift, prayers fall. It's a meditation on grief that lingers not in cries, but in the silence of what once was alive.
By heasb002about a year ago in Poets
This ghazal explores the bittersweet persistence of memory and love. Though the beloved has departed, their voice, warmth, and influence remain etched into time, seasons, and soul. It is a meditation on letting go—without truly losing.
Just because my cover is weathered and torn And my pages are a little worn Don’t look at me and scorn For I’ve been a thousand places
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Alisha leaves her bed to a new fresh day She has to earn her bread, at the age when she should play She carries her crafted hats and sets off to the street
By Maryam Batoolabout a year ago in Poets
He keeps to himself. Only seeking reflection. Solidarity is a reward of protection. Guess there’s no harm in being your one and only selection.
By Joe Pattersonabout a year ago in Poets
The man has a top job, no dearth of salary, responsibilities largely over, all kids settled abroad in well-placed lives.
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
I was twelve And already tired of bleeding For things I didn’t break. Already mapping my bruises Like constellations- Trying to find some shape
By The Omnichromiterabout a year ago in Poets
i was hungry once. not how it is now, being three hours since my last meal, but hungry. i mean knelt to unforgiving grounds, prostrating and heaving involuntarily,
By kpabout a year ago in Poets
She was an all-rounder, cooked delicious food, and shared lovingly. She nurtured a lush garden, was very social, and smiled a lot—
If I have to demand the things that I need Then you're not the man for me I'd rather be lonely If I'm not a priority Silly little games
By Lashai Bowlingabout a year ago in Poets
Grief is the price you pay for the loss of those you love but this loss is too heavy on my heart I cannot fathom how my heart can carry all this pain and still beat
By Lauren Bartonabout a year ago in Poets
Where did you go? This morning, you were you, This afternoon it feels like I'm talking to someone else, Shouting, Screaming,
By Carol Ann Townendabout a year ago in Poets
